Running With The Moon
by Quirky Del
Summary: The craze of looming departure filled everyone as soldiers and sailors from various walks of life were preparing to say goodbye – perhaps for the last time.' World War II story...Each chapter features a different one of our beloved characters
1. SHOOTING FISH

**Do not ask me why in the world this idea came to me...just merging two of my loves together, I suppose – Newsies and the 1940s. For some very strange reason I started thinking – what if they (our lovable Newsboys) were in the World War II era? How might things go? And this is what I came up with...**

**PS - The title of this story is taken from an old song.**

**PSS - I got the chapter title from something not so old - **

**RUNNING WITH THE MOON**

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**SHOOTING FISH**

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She looked up at him through elongated lashes. "I can't believe that this could be our last night together..." Her ruby lips were pouted to perfection.

He slipped on his best attempt at an honest and earnest face. "I know it, baby. You never know what could happen up there..." He flashed his most gorgeous ten million dollar smile. "That's why we gotta take what we can while we can..." He pulled her closer, nestling his face close to hers.

Jimmy Dorsey's Tangerine was blaring out from the local band and the floor was a whirl with swaying and swinging couples. The room was a mess of jabbing elbows and clumsy feet stepping on everyone else. Bodies were packed in like sardines, but no one seemed to mind much. The craze of looming departure filled everyone as soldiers and sailors from various walks of life were preparing to say goodbye – perhaps for the last time. Their sweethearts wrapped around them, postponing the impending doom for another night, another dance, another moment.

A young man with dark sandy hair pushed past, girl in tow. He stopped briefly and looked at the couple, a grin broadening his features. "Heya Spotty! Havin' fun?" He shot him a wink before disappearing amongst the checkers of dancers.

The platinum blond pulled her head up slightly to look at her dance partner. "Can I ask ya somethin'?"

"Shore, sweetheart-"

"Why did your buddy call ya Spotty?"

He grinned. "Cuz I always hit all the targets right on the spot."

"Oh, you were the hot shot in pilot and bombardier training, huh?"

His grin grew devilish. "It ain't just the bombs that I hit in just the right spot, sweetheart..."

Her mouth formed a giant O, and she blushed profusely. "You are a cad, Sergent Conlon!" Though her smile revealed that she liked his crass remarks.

"An' ya love every minute of it."

He maneuvered her around in tight circles on the dance floor – well, more like trudged through the throng of dancing bodies.

"Wanna go for a breather?" he whispered in her ear, his hot breath shivering her skin as she nodded. He grabbed her firmly by the hand, weaving them out of the stifling pack of cadavers and out into the night.

He released her hand as he fumbled in his pocket for his cigarette case and match book. She crossed her arms over her chest, rubbing each arm to ward off the cold. He popped two Lucky Strikes between his lips, struck a match and lit them both, before discarding the used flame to the dirt. He offered her one of the smoldering sticks, leaving the other to dangle loosely from his lips.

"Thanks." She reached out a delicate hand to accept the cigarette and took what she hoped was a very elegant puff. She offered him a sideways glance and saw him peering up at the crescent moon thoughtfully. "What are ya thinking, Spotty?"

"'Bout the war." He tore his gaze away and turned it down to her. "Same thing the whole damn country's thinkin' about."

"Are ya real afraid to go?"

He was about to say no, that it's his duty to serve his country...yada yada yada, all that jazz, when an inspired thought appeared to him. He littered his face with his most convincing lost boy look and tried to water his eyes a bit. _Here's the bait..._ "Yeah, baby. I'd be a fool not to be..."

She cast her barely smoked cigarette to the ground, opting to hold onto him instead. Her arms wrapped round his waist and her head rested on his shoulder. "You're such a rare man these days. One who can share his feelin's and all. I really like that about ya, Spotty."

He rested his chin on her head, fighting like mad to conceal his burgeoning grin. "Oh, ain't that the truth. But how are we supposed ta go off to war with nothin on our minds when wese gotta leave nice broads like you back home?" He heard a hitch in her breath and he knew that she was biting. _She's taken the bait, now to pull her in – slowly._

"Oh, this whole war is so crazy! I don't want ya to go!"

He kissed her head fervently. "I don't wanna go, either, doll. I know we just met the other day, but I gotta tell ya – I'm just crazy for ya, kid."

She pulled her head back to look up into his blue gray eyes. "Are ya really and truly, Spot?"

He nodded solemnly. "Oh yeah, honey. Listen, Greta Garbo ain't got nothin' on ya! And those gams of yours..." he let out a wolfish whistle, tilting his head and looking her up and down blatantly.

Crimson coloured her cheeks as warmth flooded her. "Oh, you probably say that to all the girls..." she weakly protested, waiting for him to contradict her.

"No, no – sweetheart. Just you..." he kissed her tenderly and a wonderful wooziness went over her. "What do ya say we leave this fish bowl?" He asked her softly, running a finger over her jawline.

She swallowed audibly. "Well, my girlfriend is still in there with your buddy..."

_Time to reel her in..._ he thought cockily.

"Oh, they'll be alright. Jacky will take real good care of her, I'm sure." He smirked, tightening his hold on her. "It's like ya said earlier – this could be our last night together. Do you really want to spend it with a hundred other people swingin around ya? Or do ya wanna make it really count?" He gazed at her seductively.

"Ya really care for me?" Her bubblegum eyes flitted up at him.

_Oh, this is almost too easy...I should feel guilty – but I don't._ "Ya know I care about ya, baby. That's why I took ya out steppin' tonight. I just wanna make sure our time together isn't wasted stayin here all night – I want it all to be special – for you. That's all."

"Oh, Spotty! You're so sweet, thinking of me in such a way! I want it to be special, too."

"I only wish we had somewheres ta go and be alone – I can't very well bring ya back to my barracks..." He gave her the big eyes and then worried that he was laying this act on too thick...

"Oh, well – I guess we could go back to my place...if you want."

...Apparently the innocent act was paying off. "Now, that's a good idea. I can't believe that I didn't think of that."

She smiled, very pleased with herself. "Lemme just pop back inside to tell Sheila that we're leaving," she murmured happily.

"No need for that – looks like she's busy." Spot laughed looking out into the shadows of the building.

She followed his gaze and gasped when she saw what he was referring to. There was her roommate, enveloped in the arms of Jack and she didn't look like she minded too much.

"Come on, baby. Let's go make our last night special...help me keep my mind off all the cockeyed things I'll be up against after tomorrow." He hoped that his voice was sincere enough. He had her almost where he wanted her. _Like shooting fish..._ he thought to himself smugly.

She led the way to her apartment only a few blocks away, a nervous ball of energy bouncing around her belly. As they reached her door, she took her key out, turning it in the keyhole. He pushed the metal door open, standing right behind her and waiting for her to lead him in. She hesitated a moment before turning and looking at him.

"Spotty?"

"Hmm?" He asked, running a hand up and down her arm.

"You're not one of those soldiers that tell a girl they're crazy for them just to get them to – do – certain things with them and then leave them the next morning forever, are ya?" Her words were an anxious rush and it took him a moment to register what she was asking.

He stood there a moment, frozen on the spot. He had a quick decision to make – lie and spend a lovely night with her, but forget about her after the morning – or he could do the honourable thing and leave right now. Fun or decency. She wasn't supposed to actually ask him what his intentions were! Didn't she know how to play this game?

"Spotty?"

He looked at her, the vulnerable, albeit ditzy, girl standing before him. He had only known her for two days, he had intended her to be one of those casual flings. He hadn't intended on her actually putting his morals on the forefront – flat out asking him if he was merely using her. That wasn't fair! Then he couldn't get out on a technicality. He may be a cad but he wasn't a heel. His blue eyes flickered with regret when he knew what he had to do.

"I had a great time with ya, honey. But, ya should go to bed. Goodnight." He placed a kiss on her forehead and turned away, walking down her stoop two steps at a time. He needed to get away from her before he changed his mind. He tipped his hat back on his head. Time to find the nearest bar...

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**So, what did you all think? Did you like it? Was it too odd? Would you like to see more or should I leave it at this? Meaning... R – E – V- I – E- W...please?**

**PS – Before anyone gets miffed at me, I hope to have the next chapter of Old Friends up within the next few days! I'll say Wednesday, tentatively...**


	2. THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES

**Sorry, this second chapter took so bloody long for me to get up here. This is quite a bit longer than that first one, I just noticed. Hmm. Anyway, let me know what you guys think when you're done. Each chapter is going to sort of focus on one person more than the rest. This one is for Jack...there's a couple of flashbacks and I wanted to indicate those with asterix marks but it wouldn't let me so it's just double dotted lines - hopefully it's not confusing; I don't think it is, though. Anyway, enjoy...**

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**THANKS FOR THE MEMORIES**

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"Would ya turn that off?" Jack asked irritably as he skulked through the row of cots until he reached his own.

"What the hell is your problem, Kelly?"

"Nothin' – only I'm tired of hearin that damn song over and over," Jack snapped back as he flung himself onto his lumpy excuse for a mattress.

"Hey –" Skittery defended with a jerk of his head. " 'Forget If You Can' is one of her most poignant ballads!"

"Well, I ain't in the mood to hear it. And what's with your obsession with Billie Holiday, anyway? Why don't you go out and get ya'self a real life broad?"

Skittery scoffed. "Ha – that's real rich comin from _you_. Ya can't even forget a goil that dumped ya years ago! So, don't talk to me about obsessive." The song ended and Skittery sat up, carefully picking up the record arm, ever so mindful that the needle didn't put a scratch on his sacred music. He gently lifted the record with an unexpected fervency, carefully depositing it in it's designated place of adoration – a record book that held an all important place underneath his cot. He stood up, shooting daggers toward Jack.

"'Sides, I didn't know you'd be back so early. I thought ya had a hot date earlier?"

Jack shrugged slightly from his place in his cot. "Turns out I wasn't interested..."

Skittery snorted. "Whaddya mean ya 'weren't interested'? She was a real looker...so was her roommate that Spot was with."

"Yeah, well – her looks was all she had goin' for her. Not too much upstairs."

Skittery leveled him with a hard look. "When are ya gonna stop comparin' every dame to _her_?"

Jack waved a hand in impatience. "Ya don't know what you're talkin about."

"Don't I? When's the last time you even heard from her, huh?"

"Knock off, will ya?" Jack closed his eyes, hoping to shut out the rest of the world. Skittery took the hint.

"I'm gonna head out – it ain't every day we get a night off." He left Jack alone to dwell in his thoughts.

A myriad of memories assaulted Jack's senses all at once, but he was used to it. It's what happened almost every time he closed his eyes. Various scenes would be splayed out on his lids for him to relieve – all of them having one thing in common – they always featured _her_.

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"Jack...oh, Jack, you're such a fool," she laughed, the mirth sparkling in her eyes, lighting up her entire face. "I can't believe you did all of this for me!" She was so delighted that her entire body seemed to buzz in contentment.

"Ya know I'd do anything for ya, Sarah." Jack enveloped her in his arms, spinning her about madly.

"Jack Kelly – you put me down this instant!" She pretended to scold, but the giggles ripping out of her gave her away.

He nudged her hair gently with his nose, breathing in her daffodil scent. "I ain't never gonna let ya go..." he murmured, drinking in everything about her.

"You had better not!" She turned her head slightly to place a tender kiss on his temple.

Jack reluctantly lowered her feet back to the ground, but he didn't release his hold around her waist. His fingers brushed the soft cotton of her sundress as he gazed at her. "So, ya like the picnic then?" He asked coyly, a strand of hair brushing his lashes.

"Of course! How many girls have a guy that will set up a picnic in the most romantic part of Central Park?" She fingered the lapel of his jacket affectionately, smiling up at him through big eyes.

"I got somethin' else to ask ya..." he cleared his throat forcefully and inhaled deeply. "Sarah?"

"Yes?" she asked quizzically, wondering where his sudden onslaught of nerves came from. It was almost as if he was about to pro...her heart picked up the pace frantically as realization as to what he was about to ask hit her. Her eyes widened into saucers as her breath hitched.

"Sarah – Sarah Jacobs...would ya – I mean, wait a minute," his words were shaky and he abruptly dropped down to one knee. His hand darted into his breast pocket and he pulled out a tiny box. His long fingers fumbled as he lifted the lid, revealing a small ring. His hand reached out in trepidation, grabbing hold of her own. "Sarah, I love you – I know I don't have much...hell, I don't have anythin, really, but I don't care about none of that..." His vulnerable gaze searched hers as his other hand held up the unimpressive ring. "Sarah, will ya marry me?"

She felt herself quake with excitement. She nodded, trying to answer but words failed her for a moment. "Yes! Yes, I'll be Mrs. Jack Kelly!"

He lept up in an instant, engulfing her small frame in his dangly arms. He spun her around again, with so much ardency that her limbs were flailing about dangerously. He stopped, putting her back down with a reverence that she had never seen. He let go of so that he could reach down and pick up her left hand.

"I'm glad I didn't drop this – I almost forgot to give ya the ring," he grinned at her nervously. He slipped it onto her ring finger, and his eyes stared transfixed at the little piece of metal now residing on her delicate skin.

The cool 14kt gold soothed her nerves, anchoring her to the boy in front of her in a glorious way. "Oh, Jack..." she rested her head on his shoulder, unable to finish her thought due to the varying emotions swaying within her. "I love you," she finished off softly.

"I love ya, too, kid."

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Jack snapped his eyes open, his head still foggy from his favourite daydream. He peered about the stark barracks, the dark contrast of reality flooding out the airy brightness of his memory. He reached an arm up to try to fluff the mangy pillow stuffed behind his head before settling his hands back on his stomach in front of him. His lids grew heavy once again with another recollection playing in his mind.

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"I'm sorry, Jack. I never meant it to happen this way."

Jack stared at her numbly, his teeth chattering in the chilled air. "You don't love me anymore?" His voice echoed in the night.

"I do love you. I always will."

His brows furrowed. "Then why, Sarah? Why are ya doin' this? Why are ya leavin?"

Tears pricked at the corner of her lids. "I have to."

"_Why_ do ya have to leave me?"

"I don't – I'm just not – I can't settle down, yet." Sarah's pleading gaze spoke volumes.

He looked at her closely. She was just a scared little girl, she was scared of missing out on something if she settled right now – scared on missing out if she settled for him, he thought ruefully. "How did we get here? A few months ago you said you wanted to be my wife – what happened?" His emotions were becoming raw, the numbness beginning to melt away into a puddle of anger and confusion.

"I just – I need to do something for myself before I can share my life with you; don't you see?" her tone was desperate, willing him to understand; but he didn't.

"Ya just don't want me."

She shook her head profusely. "You know that's not it. Things are getting crazy, Jack. The war breaking out in Europe – what if we get involved soon, too? I want to know that I did everything that I could to help."

"And ya think goin off on this fancy internship is gonna change the world?"

"Why can't you be happy for me? You and David are the ones that got me interested in the news world in the first place, remember? When David brought you home with him that night to dinner...he was so excited about you showing him the ropes. He thought being a reporter was the most exciting thing in the world – how was I _not_ to fall in love with it all? With the thrill of catching that big story. You showed me that world, Jack. And now, I have an opportunity to really make a difference. To go over to London and report what's going on so that we'll be ready when it's our time to go."

"You're so sure that we'll have to get involved?"

"Yes – Hitler isn't just after Europe, Jack. He wants to control everything. I have to go – I have to do this."

"Yeah, and I'm sure that your boss likin ya has nothin to do with his picking ya over all the other interns to go," his bite was sarcastic, and he knew that his comment would hurt her.

She blinked back the tears forming more rapidly. "I was chosen to go because I can do a good job, not because of anything else. And I resent the fact that you would even imply that would be a factor!"

"I'm just sayin, one minute you're engaged to me – and the next, you're runnin off to Europe with your boss and leavin me behind."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Jack." She slowly reached down and tremulously tugged the ring off her finger. "Here – I'm sorry." She took his hand, and turned his palm upward, placing the symbol of broken hope there. "I'll always love you," she whispered before turning around leaving quickly.

Jack stood there like a lead weight, wondering what had gone wrong. Wondering if he should run after her right now and tell her he'd wait for her – that he'd wait for however long it took. But he didn't. He put the ring in his pocket deadened to any more feeling.

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Jack sat up, rubbing a calloused hand roughly over his face. He swung his legs over his cot, taking a few steps to Skittery's bunk. He crouched down, pulling the record book out of it's place and opening it deftly. Reaching in he grabbed the record and placed it on the portable player. He hoped his comrade wouldn't mind him borrowing his music, but he had a feeling he'd understand. He needed some comfort and Skittery always said that Billie's dulcet tones were the best source of that. As her words began lilt across the still air, Jack settled back down on his cot, but forgetting was the furthest thing from his mind – his memories were all he had left.

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**I know, this was depressing – poor Jack! I even want to give him a big hug and say sorry for making him so depressed ! Anyway, let me know if you guys are liking this or not! A review would be much appreciated! **


	3. YOU'RE MY THRILL

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YOU'RE MY THRILL

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A gentle breeze lapped at Private Skittery's face as he aimlessly wandered the unusually quiet city streets. A restless feeling settled around him that he couldn't quite shake. Here they were, shipping out in a day – he should spending his free night doing something worthwhile – instead of walking around all glum and dumb.

"Hey, Skitts! I been looking everything for you!"

Skittery regarded the young man in front of him. He was panting slightly, attempting to catch his breath. They were the same age, but his friend had a baby face, earning him the nickname of 'Baby Mush' – or just 'Mush' for short.

"Whassa matter? Someone die or somethin?" Skittery asked, his prevailant pessimism poking through.

"Nah – way better! You're not gonna believe me when I tell you!" Anxious excitement seeped out of Mush in waves as he bounced with pride at being the one to bear the good news.

"Alright – so why don't ya just tell me already?"

"_She's here!_" he whispered conspiratorially.

Confusion flitted across his strong features. "_Who's_ here?"

"Who's the one goil you want to see more than any other?"

"Billie Holiday – " Skittery answered sarcastically.

"**_Exactly!_**"

Time seemed to immobilize; the stars were snuffed from the sky, the street lamps dimmed, traffic stopped – it's like the world around him completely disappeared, leaving only a dense black backdrop in it's wake. A shower of white gardenias swirled around him and then all he could hear was 'Lady Day's' vulnerable voice wrapping round.

"Ah – Skittery?"

He snapped his eyes open – he hadn't even noticed that he had closed them; the daydream had been so real. The world fell back down around him with a thundering crash and he struggled to regain his focus.

"She's in town?"  
Mush smiled with relief. "Yeah, she's gonna be singing at the 'Doleful Lily'."

"On 42nd?"

"Yeah –"

"Thanks a million, Mush! Gotta go!" Skittery dashed off, leaving his friend staring after him in amusement.

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His feet were raw, his bones ached – but he made it. The other side of town and an hour later, he was standing outside of the building that currently housed the woman of his dreams. He was thankful that the club didn't start the live entertainment until late. He had left Jack to his wallowing at about half past eight, a couple of hours must have passed since then. He glanced down at his wrist out of habit, forgetting that his watch broke a week ago during one of their training drills. He methodically reached a hand up to tilt his hat to the side slightly, making sure that he looked his best. One of the first things he learned when he enlisted was that you never wore your hat straight on – unless you were a real cornbread square – no, no – the way to wear it was to have it tipped ever so slightly to one side; that's what distinguished the ladies' men from the mamma's boys. Satisfied with his appearance he entered the smoky club, nodding to the doorman as he passed. His eyes quickly darted towards the small stage – it was empty. Good – he didn't want to miss anything. His long legs meandered through the packed house, his bright eyes in search of an empty table.

"Heya, soldier!"

He swung round to see a small group of girls giggling at him, seated at a table in the very front, right smack in front of where his siren would soon be belting out her tunes.

"You wanna join us?" a brunette tittered, flashing him a mouthful of white.

"Sure, thanks." He grabbed a nearby chair that was shoved against a wall and brought it to the table, placing himself in the spot closest to the the stage.

"Tell us your name, handsome," the redhead purred.

"Skittery."

"Skittery? Skittery, what?"

"Just Skittery, no one calls me by my first name," he dismissed, not paying a whit of attention to her.

"Well, 'Just Skittery'," she teased, leaning over the table to show the advantageous peek of her low cut blouse. "You got a girl back home?"

At this, Skittery finally turned to her with a smirk. "Ya don't waste much time, do ya?"

She flipped a lock of her hair back in a gesture she no doubt thought was very attractive. "Why should I waste time? 'Specially in times like these?"

He merely chuckled lightly, but any retort died on his lips as he saw a tall man walk out onto stage, seating himself behind his trusty ivory keys. This was it – she would be sauntering out any moment now. He sat up straight, his skin tingling with anticipation – and then it happened.

There she was in all of her glittering glory. The snowy satin dress contrasted sharply with her dark smooth skin. Her pianist began to strum the first keys to 'Don't Know if I'm Comin' or Goin'.

As soon as she opened her mouth and scrumptiously began to sing "You've got me..." Skittery's lids fluttered shut as he slowly inhaled a deep relaxing breath. He slowly opened his eyes, savouring the sight before him.

She was glorious...

One of the girls whispered something to him, but he ignored her, focusing only on his Billie's sweet melancholy voice caressing his ears. The girl said something again, mistaking his silence for his not hearing her; this only earned her a quick glare from him before he promptly fixed his attention back to his Lady. Time seemed to fade and crumble away as she spun each song from bewitching lips, balling him into a pleasant foggy haze.

"Put your arms around me..." the words left her lips like little rainbow bubbles when the unthinkable happened – her dark and penetrating eyes fell right onto Skittery. "I can say I'm only lending, when I give my heart to you..." she continued, still holding his gaze.

His senses were pricked on edge, he could feel her gaze ensnaring him; the blood began to kick and hum though his veins. She smiled at him before she turned, dragging her gaze away and around the room. Skittery suddenly felt cold with the loss of contact.

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He had been sitting, mesmerized, for the last two hours. A cute little waitress had been by several times asking if he wanted a drink, each time he politely waved her away without even glancing up. About halfway though the show the girls at his table had left. He had distinctly heard the redhead grumbling about him being a 'waste of time after all', but he didn't care. He was just glad that they had finally left him alone. Nothing mattered to him right now expect for the singing goddess before him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Billie's scratchy voice rang through the crowd. "You've all been a great audience and I thank you. For my last song tonight, I'd like to do one that's very close to my heart. It's called 'Strange Fruit'."

The haunting melody opened, leaking bits of bleak despair into the air. A hush fell over everyone as the morose words brushed the atmosphere with sorrow.

Skittery watched her closely, her melancholy tainted beauty tugging at his heart. Her voice was so weathered, her bones so weary – he wondered what sort of unhappy trials plagued her for her to be so tired at such a ripe age. She was only 8 or 9 years his senior, but her eyes were aged so much beyond that.

As she continued her musical lament on racial injustice, he stiffened. He raged at the thought that some people could be so evil, twisted, and sadly misguided as to think that the colour of someone's skin could mean anything at all. He may not be the most educated guy in the world but he certainly wasn't idiotic enough to think that segregation was the right idea. Who cared what so called 'race' anyone was? Being a good person – wasn't that all that mattered? Yeah, in a perfect world, he thought bitterly.

She finished that last eerie note and bowed her head slightly, her trademark white gardenias in her hair glowing in the spotlight. She muttered another thanks and then it happened again – she smiled right at him before disappearing offstage.

He was glued to his chair, his pupils dilated – _she noticed him_ – and not once, but twice! The proprietor was bustling about, announcing the impending closing of the club as the patrons scurried away.

"Hey, buddy – time to go."

Skittery looked up at the balding man before slowly rising to his feet. He walked out of the club; that club that would forever hold a special place in his heart from that night forward. He retrieved his cigarettes out of his pockets and tried to light one, but the breeze impeded his flame. He took a few steps over to seek refuge at the side of the building, blocking out the wind. His back leaned against the cool brick as his lungs reveled in the nicotine he fed them.

"So, what's your name, soldier?"

He turned his head to the right, toward the soft voice calling to him. His eyes widened and his mouth gaped, causing his cigarette to drop from his parted lips and fall, unnoticed, on the ground.

She laughed throatily, her usual stormy eyes sparkling with mischief. "Alright, I'll start, then. Hello, I'm Billie –" she reached a small hand out.

"Uh - " he was having an increasingly difficult time realizing that this wasn't another one of his dreams. "Skittery – _Michael Skittery._" He took her hand in his trembling one, shakily bringing it up to brush his lips across of her knuckles before releasing it in a sudden burst of embarrassment.

She smiled widely. "Michael Skittery," she repeated, and he thought hearing his name coming from her lips was just about the single most beautiful sound in the entire world. "Thank you for coming to my show – I don't know if I've ever had a more ardent listener before. It was nice."

"Oh, well, uh," he stammered. "I love you –" his face flamed, "I mean, I love your music, Billie – _Miss Holiday_." He had swiftly taken off his cap in his befuddlement, only just remembering the golden rule of always removing your hat in the presence of a lady – and oh, this was the greatest lady of them all, he though gushingly.

"Well, you can call me Billie if I can call you Michael," she grinned cheekily at him.

"Of course!" He flushed. "Billie," he added, delighted at the prospect of being on a first name basis with her.

A man and a woman walked out through the side door just then and paused.

"You ready, Billie?" asked the man, his arm linked with the mousy woman next to him.

"Sure, I'll be along in a minute," she answered, prompting the man and woman to walk past to a waiting car on the road. She looked back at Skittery, tilting her head in assessment.

"It's been really nice meeting you, Micheal."

"Meeting you is just about the best thing that's ever happened me..." he raised a brow as he realized that he had just admitted that out loud.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek lightly. She almost giggled at the enormously pleased look covering him. "Michael?"

"Mhmm?" he breathed, unable to articulate anything more.

She stepped back into him and gently placed her lips over his own for one deliciously agonizing minute before pulling away, smiling.

"Maybe I'll see you around again sometime, Army."

"Oh God, I sure as hell hope so..." he murmured though a dreamy smile.

She laughed again. "Me, too," she said kindly. "I think you're good for my ego." She reached a hand up, untangling one of her her ever present gardenias from her raven hair. She placed it in his hand, the soft petals mixing with his rough skin. The corners of her mouth quirked. "Something to remember me by. You take care out there, Michael Skittery." She regarded him tenderly a moment before turning around to join her waiting party in the car.

"Billie?" His voice shot through the air, making her stop and look at him expectantly.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, baby." She blinded him with that saucy grin once more before entering the car and vanishing.

He stood there, unsure if he had been frozen there for hours or merely minutes. He didn't want this heavenly night to end. He glanced down at the delicate flower still clutched in his hand as he reached the other one to touch his lips.

_Billie Holiday KISSED ME!_ _She knows my name..._

These thoughts clouded his brain in a mantra as he began the long walk back to the barracks. He felt as if his chest was being invaded by a million bees, clamouring around, pushing for dominance over each other. He felt wonderful. He floated the rest of the way back on these thoughts, the white gardenia guiding him happily through his hopped up stupor.

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**Ok, I know that not everyone is as into the old music and things as I am – I'm a geek and I'm proud – but I hope that I described Billie sufficiently enough for you to get a good image of everything. And you've probably all figured out that the next chapter's focus character makes an appearance the chapter before: ie. Jack had a cameo in Spot's chapter; Skittery appeared in Jack's chapter; and Mush was in this chapter...so, of course, Mush's chapter is next! **

**Review – Please? That would be swell!**


	4. BLUE CHAMPAGNE

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**BLUE CHAMPAGNE**

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Daniel Mush chuckled to himself as he watched his friend disappear in the darkness. He knew Skittery would be excited over the news of his dream woman being in town. He hated seeing his friend gloomy most of the time, so he was glad to be the one who got to break the good news to him.

Mush sighed in contentment as he turned around to make his way back. It was almost time! He had been looking forward to when the clock turned nine all day long – that was the heavenly hour that he would be talking on the phone with his girl back home.

He made his way through the city streets checkered here and there with a pool of light, feeling the wind at his feet. The night air tickled at his nose as the moon smiled down at him. He found himself at the mess hall soon enough and made a beeline to little phone booth in the corner. Fumbling in his pockets for his dime, he deposited it in the slot and waited for the operator to answer.

"Operator – how may I help you?"

"Uh, hi! May I please be connected with Oak Terrace 5549?"

"One moment, please," the nasally voice responded back.

A soft tone reached his ears. "Hello?"

"Heya, sweets,"

"Daniel! Oh, it's so good to hear your voice! I thought nine o'clock would never come..."

Mush smiled. "I've missed you, too, baby."

"I've been thinking about you all day! Mama keeps saying I need to get my head out of the clouds, but I told her that's the best place to be," she broke out in a golden laugh.

"It's so good to hear you,"

She giggled. "I said that already!"

"I know, I can't help it. I wish I was there with you right now..."

"Me, too," she responded so quietly, he barely heard her.

They both fell into an aching silence. Strains of a familiar song floated through the ear piece, eliciting a pleased grin from the boy.

"Is that our song?"

"Mmhmm. I think this is about the tenth time I've listened to it today. And you know, if they actually made blue champagne I would drink that, too!"

He chuckled. "Yeah, and we both know how well you hold your alcohol!"

"Hey! I'm not that bad!"

"Remember New Year's?"

A violent blush covered her. "Hey – that's not fair! I still say that fountain in the plaza was meant to be swam in!"

"Yeah, and I'm sure Mr. Blandings really liked it when you called him 'Ol' Baldy'!"

"Okay – okay, you've made your point! See, just another reason we should stay together; I need you to keep me out of trouble!"

"I wouldn't mind doing that, I guess."

"You guess?"

"Well, you know. I could suffer through it," he teased, loving to get a rise out of her.

"Oh, I can make you suffer alright, mister!"

"Aw, you sound so adorable when you're angry!"

"Daniel 'Mush' Sanders, don't think that you're too old for me to take over my knee!"

"Sounds good to me," he replied saucily.

"You are incorrigible!" she said with a twinkle.

"That's why ya love me, right?"

"Oh, you're such a fool," she laughed, caressing the phone, wishing it were his hand instead.

"I'm a fool for you," he replied in his best Cary Grant suave.

"That's good because I don't think I can get along without you."

"And you won't have to." Pausing, he took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, blocking everything out except for what he wanted to say. "Marie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think your brother would let you use his car?"

"Tonight?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah, tonight."

"I suppose so – why?"

"Well, I know you're and hour and a half away, but I'd _really_ like for you to be here – "

"Is everything ok?"

"It will be if you say yes..." he bit his lip, nerves all jangled.

"I don't understand..."

"Hang it all, woman! Don't you know that I'm asking you to marry me?" He almost dropped the phone as a delighted squeal pierced his eardrum.

"You wanna _marry me? **Tonight?"**_

"Yes! Oh, I know it's crazy, baby, but I love you! And I'm shippin' out tomorrow, I need to know that you're mine before I go!" He rushed the words out before he could change his mind.

"OH! Of course I...Oh, Danny! You've just made me the happiest girl in all the world!" She gasped. "But, I don't have a wedding dress! And it'll be really late by the time I get there, and where –"

"Ssh – don't you worry about any of that. Just wear that peach dress ya got – that would be perfect! And there's a justice of the peace that said he'll marry us any time tonight; I just have to give him a call," his words were blurring into each other with his budding excitement.

"You've been planning this all day?"

"I've been planning on marrying you since the day I met ya, honey; but I only just got the nerve up to ask you today."

"Wow – in just a few short hours I am going to be 'Mrs. Daniel 'Mush' Sanders..."

"Yeah, but you can leave out the 'Mush' part," he countered playfully.

"Ah, no! I like your nickname – it's adorable!"

"Great – just what every man wants to be called – adorable," he grumbled even though he was grinning like an idiot.

"Where will we...what I mean is, after we get married, where will we stay?" she asked in a rush, an embarrassed flush creeping up her.

"One of the guys here has a buddy who's got a vacation home a few miles from here – he said we're welcome to it."

"Well, I'm going to pack a bag and then I'll be on my way!"

"I'll be waiting! Oh, and Marie?"

"Yes?"

"Bring your Blue Champagne record, huh? We'll have the J.P play it for us for our wedding song."

A brilliant smile stretched across her face. "I'm so glad I'm marrying you!"

"Let's hope you always feel that way!" he joked before saying a quick goodbye and hanging up.

He sighed contentedly before exiting the booth, looking around.

"Race!" he called out, running up to him. "Hey, remember when you said earlier that your buddy would let me and Marie use his place for our honeymoon?"

Higgins smiled. "Yeah – so youse really goin through with it, huh?"

"Of course – my Marie is gonna marry me tonight!" Mush's face took on a dreamy countenance, causing his fellow soldier to smirk.

"Alright, it's your funeral..." Race laughed. "Yeah, I'll get a hold of him, get him to open up the place for you."

"Gee, thanks, Higgins! I gotta go get ready!" Mush rushed, "Isn't marriage just about the most beaut-y-ful word in the world?" he gushed before tearing out of the room with a large grin.

"Marriage ain't a word – it's a sentence – a life sentence!" Race chuckled at his friend's retreating back. "Whew, that kid's gonna have his eyes opened real quick," he muttered to himself bitterly before heading over to the track. He needed to get a hold of his buddy to set the place up for Mush, and the best place to find him was at the night races...and it just so happened that Race had a few dollars and a little bit of time before the last race started...maybe he could make a nice little profit before the night was over after all.

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**Sorry, it took so long to get this up here! What did you guys think?**


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